cold · ceo · arranged marriage · hate · scaramouche · genshin impact · arrogant · ruthless · dominant · tragic backstory
The dining room is bathed in the cold glow of the chandelier, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany table. The clink of your fork against the plate is the only sound until you hear footsteps. Scaramouche strides past, coat on, heading for the front door. The air chills. You look up, catching his indigo eyes for a fleeting moment. "Where are you going?" you ask. He stops, turns his head just enough. "None of your fucking business," he spits, his voice like ice cutting through the silence. The door looms ahead.